<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>You don't get to choose who cares about you by orangedice</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495717">You don't get to choose who cares about you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangedice/pseuds/orangedice'>orangedice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Agent Carter Reference, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, if the writers kill him i swear to god, or 16th kiss???, or is it second kiss?, post-7x09, time loop aftermath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:47:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangedice/pseuds/orangedice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy struggles with her own desire to run away and ignore her actions during the time loop. But all she can think about is that kiss...</p><p>Spoilers for 7x09 "As I Have Always Been".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jemma Simmons &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>280</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I haven't written fanfic in 2 decades... that's how much this ship has inspired me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“We’ve done this 15 times already?” she remembers saying, incredulous.</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data"><em>“No,” Coulson spits out. "You’ve</em> died <em>15 times already."</em></p>
</blockquote><p class="has-line-data">That’s fifteen times that she doesn’t remember that Sousa might have sacrificed himself. For her. That’s fifteen times he more-or-less declared his love, probably, possibly. For her. <em>No, not love,</em> she thinks. She can’t think of love just yet. But, <em>Admiration? Unwavering and steady support?</em> Fifteen times that she probably most likely definitely kissed him.</p><p class="has-line-data"><em>How many times did we kiss? How many times did he sacrifice himself for me?</em> Daisy wonders, again. She stares above her, the metal of her bunk’s ceiling giving her no comfort.</p><p class="has-line-data">She closes her eyes, though it doesn’t help to stop the memory. She remembers his lips softening against hers. The sigh, the feeling of… She opens her eyes. <em>No.</em></p><p class="has-line-data">The team escaped the time loop, but the time loop refuses to escape her, clinging on as desperately as she clings to the waking world. The guilt wracks her body again. She brings her watch to her face, the display waking up to her movement. The late hour mocks her.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“You could use another night or so in the healing chamber, Daisy,” Simmons says.</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“I can’t, Jemma. Please. I…” Daisy stares into Jemma’s eyes. Pleading. “I kept waking up in there. Over and over. I just need to be anywhere else when I wake up tomorrow. Please.” Daisy’s eyes flit over to the empty chair in the corner. “I just need a little space.”</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“Fine,” Jemma says. She reaches out and places a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “That must have been hard.” She pauses, swallows. “I’m so sorry, Daisy.”</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>Jemma clears her throat and fetches one of her monitoring watches, back to doctor mode. Daisy dutifully extends her arm so Jemma can strap the watch to her wrist. “But if for whatever reason you can’t sleep--”</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“Of course I’ll sleep,” Daisy protests.</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>Jemma gives her an “oh really” look. “If for some reason you can’t, just come back here, and the chamber can help with that.”</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="has-line-data">Daisy thinks it’s probably time to give into the siren song of the healing chamber, but resists. Despite the return of Yo-yo’s power--<em>is it just “Yo” now?</em> she thinks, a little smirk coming to her face before disappearing back into her thoughts--she still feels the pressure of being one of the powerhouses of the team. But if she returns to the chamber, Daniel--no, Sousa--will find her. She’ll wake up and he’ll be there again, sleeping in that chair, unquestionably loyal, strong, and…</p><p class="has-line-data">Daisy gives a little quake of frustration, though she limits it to just outside her fingers. A mini, silent scream.</p><p class="has-line-data">Quickly, she slips out of bed and changes into her workout clothes, leggings and--she hesitates, fingering the soft fabric of an old gray shirt--no, no, she picks out a crop top instead. She would feel dirty, <em>does</em> feel dirty just thinking of wearing Lincoln’s shirt while her thoughts are in turmoil over… over another man.</p><p class="has-line-data">She ties her hair into a ponytail, stuffs her feet into her boots, and exits her room. The lights are dim in this area of the ship. The others are probably in their bunks as well, but she looks both ways anyway, instinct having her check exits, making sure nobody sees her.</p><p class="has-line-data">She heads toward the kitchen dinette. She’ll make herself some chamomile tea, if Deke had time to replace it on his last grocery store. If exercise and tea doesn’t help… She glances at her watch again, and decides to gives herself until 4am before she surrenders herself to the claustrophobic tube again.</p><p class="has-line-data"><em>Shit,</em> Daisy thinks as she comes up short to the open kitchen door. <em>Of course he’s here.</em></p><p class="has-line-data">She clenches and unclenches her fists, tries to shake off the gentle vibration that’s just started at her fingertips. It travels up her arms and settles into her chest. She swallows, mouth suddenly dry.</p><p class="has-line-data">His back is to her, so she can back away, leave if she wants to. But she’s planted in place. She longs to reach out to him, to feel the atoms of his body vibrate alongside her own again, just like they did alongside the healing chamber when she had first? last? kissed him. That noble, sensible, practical, beautiful, solid, dependable, human-shaped rock…</p><p class="has-line-data">Daniel turns. A look of surprise passes over his face, but before she knows it, he’s smiling at her gently. “Daisy,” he says. “What are you doing up?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“Why do you care?” she remembers asking him.</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>He looks at her steadily. “Because you don’t.”</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="has-line-data">She opens and closes her mouth, caught. She gives a quick smile. <em>Screw it,</em> she thinks, and steps inside the small kitchen and slides into the small 2-person booth. “Honestly?” she says. “I don’t know where to start.” She clasps her hands in her lap, in case he can see how they thrum with restless energy.</p><p class="has-line-data">He tries to school his expression, keeps it calm and understanding. “Did you want me to add more water for you?” He gestures to the glass pot and hot plate. “There’s room for another cup at least.” She nods in acquiescence and she watches him as he fills the pot up to the top line. He brings down another mug as well. Finally, he turns to face her, leans against the counter, arms crossed, waiting.</p><p class="has-line-data">“What are <em>you</em> doing up?” she asks.</p><p class="has-line-data">“Ah,” he says. “It’s my first watch.”</p><p class="has-line-data">Daisy gives a quizzical look. “I’m surprised they let you--”</p><p class="has-line-data">Sousa chuckles. “You’ve all been run ragged. I figured it’s time I helped pick up some slack around here.” But his gaze is serious.</p><p class="has-line-data">“I’m sorry,” Daisy says, suddenly. He uncrosses his arms, concerned. “I don’t doubt you’re capable.”</p><p class="has-line-data">“Yes, well--”</p><p class="has-line-data">“I’m glad you’re,” she swallows. “Settling in. Did the team do a good job briefing you about Z1?” She waves an awkward hand about her, gesturing at the rest of the ship.</p><p class="has-line-data">He shakes his head in a kind of “ehh” motion. “May showed me her usual patrol pattern. Deke made sure I knew what ‘important totally new original innovations he’s working on’ that I absolutely cannot touch. Simmons gave me some basic exercises to get used to my new leg…” At that he rubs, almost absentmindedly, at the attachment point. “Mack and Coulson insisted in no uncertain terms that he and the rest of you trust and respect me enough to know when to call for help.” He smiles again. “That leaves you. Any tips?”</p><p class="has-line-data">Daisy laughs. “Well, for one, you should probably be, I don’t know, watching the ship?”</p><p class="has-line-data">“Ah, well, for that…” He half-turns, though still gazing at Daisy, and grabs a tablet off the counter behind him. “Deke and Simmons showed me some basics, but I can monitor some stuff from here. Besides,” he sets the tablet back down behind him. “I still have 10 minutes here before May suggests I move on.”</p><p class="has-line-data">Her eyes widen. <em>10 minutes of small talk?</em></p><p class="has-line-data">“Now, what about you? Everything all right?” Sousa asks.</p><p class="has-line-data"><em>Of course he would want to help,</em> she thinks. Daisy smiles at that, unclasps her hands finally and leans back. She feels the tension leave her shoulders and arms, though that small, soothing hum of energy stays in her chest.</p><p class="has-line-data">He smiles back at her, a little unsure. “Got a problem you’re trying to crack?”</p><p class="has-line-data">“Like I said, I don’t really know where to start,” she replies. She looks down briefly, then back up at his face. “I’ve been struggling a lot, with what I remember in the time loop.”</p><p class="has-line-data">“Tell me about it,” he says. Unfazed as ever.</p><p class="has-line-data">“It’s just that…” Her eyes flick over to the hot plate and the obstinately unheated water. Is that thing even plugged in? “Not all of it was that bad. There were moments when we--I…” She can’t quite get herself to say--<em>We kissed! We kissed and I want to do it again!</em>--yet. “Enjoyed myself. It’s been awhile since I’ve…” <em>felt something for someone.</em> She cuts that sentence off. “But now that we’re out, it’s…” She returns her gaze back to Sousa’s face.</p><p class="has-line-data">“Back to reality?” he finishes.</p><p class="has-line-data">She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The nervous vibrations are back, spreading back down her arms.</p><p class="has-line-data">“There’s no Time Drive resetting our lives anymore, if…” <em>you sacrifice yourself again.</em> “If I ruin things. May told me once…”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“You don’t get to choose who cares about you,” May says. They had just returned from the failed mission to retrieve Eli Morrow, from her suicidal run against the Watchdogs, and Daisy had sequestered herself away from everyone.</em>
  </p>
  <p class="has-line-data"><em>Daisy wants to scream.</em> You should have left me, let me save you… <em>But she pretends to be engrossed at her laptop screen.</em></p>
  <p class="has-line-data">
    <em>“Lincoln wouldn’t want you killing yourself over what happened.”</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="has-line-data">“May told me once that I don’t get to choose who cares about me.”</p><p class="has-line-data">The seeming jump in topic doesn’t seem to affect him. “May knows her stuff,” he says. “I’d believe her.”</p><p class="has-line-data">“But that’s the problem!” she says. Daniel tilts his head, surprised at the sudden increase in volume. She quiets again. “People who care about me…” <em>It’s just better if I’m alone.</em></p><p class="has-line-data">“I didn’t think you’d spook so easily,” he says.</p><p class="has-line-data">“Excuse me?” She laughs, shocked out of her thoughts. “I do not spook!” She brings her hands up as if to quake some unseen enemies. “I am unspookable.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="has-line-data">Daniel grins at that. “I know your type,” he says. Her grin disappears and she winces. He purses his lips in response, though he feels one corner lift up, despite himself. “See? I know you’re the type that don’t want people to know their type. And you want people to think you like being alone, even though you always end up back with friends…” She shakes her head to protest, opens her mouth to respond, but stops herself. He waits until she looks back up into his eyes. He sees her resolve, that lie behind her eyes that tries to tell him, <em>You don’t scare me</em>.</p><p class="has-line-data"><em>You don’t have to be scared of me</em>, he thinks.</p><p class="has-line-data">“I bet,” he says, clears his throat. “I bet that you’ve watched someone…maybe multiple someones that you love, dearly, die.” He sees that Daisy is about to make a joke in deflection, though he sees the tears forming in her eyes. “No, not just in the time loop. Coulson, for example.” She stares at him. Did he actually render her speechless? Perhaps he should wrap this up--he doesn’t want to push this too far, because, well, people like her, they do spook easily, but: “Probably others. People who are willing to die for you.”</p><p class="has-line-data">“I don’t want that. I need--”</p><p class="has-line-data">"<em>I</em> would die for you," he says.</p><p class="has-line-data">She gasps, that deep, shuddering, in-your-bones kind of gasp. She can’t look completely away, though her eyes flit about his face, then the room behind his head, anywhere but his eyes. “You did,” she whispers. “You have.”</p><p class="has-line-data">He takes his own shuddering breath, a sigh almost. The pain she must have felt in the time loop, watching him die, watching Enoch die… He keeps his face neutral.</p><p class="has-line-data">He steps forward, ever so slightly. Not so much as to get into her personal space, as much as he craves her presence, but close enough to intimate that this is a conversation from his very heart. It’s odd, being able to shift his weight so easily like that, but the thought is fleeting.</p><p class="has-line-data">“You have to let people <em>live</em> for you too,” he says. “Daisy.”</p><p class="has-line-data">She shakes her head again, looks down. “The people I love,” her voice shudders. “Never get that chance.” She looks up again. Her eyes. Almost angry. He stays right there. “The people I love die,” she says, more firmly. She almost spits the last word at him. Almost to counter the tears that have now spilled over.</p><p class="has-line-data">“You think you know me, my type.” she says. "My type <em>lets</em>"--so much venom now, at him? at herself?--“people die for them. My type never gets to prove that I can die for them too. My type never gets to prove,” at this her voice cracks again. “To prove that I love them. To prove that they deserve to live too.”</p><p class="has-line-data">“The people you love might die,” Daniel says. “But everybody does.” His lips quirk up again. “I’m already dead. Thanks to you.”</p><p class="has-line-data">He takes a deep breath. “Without you, I would have…” He steps back, leans against the counter behind him. “I would have forgotten that there are people fighting for me. Fighting for the greater good. Before your team showed up, I didn’t know who to trust anymore. I was losing hope that there were any good people left, willing to stay with me, fight for me and with me.” He falters. He thinks of sweet Violet, accusing him of being in love with Peggy still; of Peggy, running away just as he had run away from her. He thinks, farther back, to--</p><p class="has-line-data">“Mike Stephens,” she says. Her eyes finally dry, now that his attention has strayed away from her.</p><p class="has-line-data">He nods. If he was a blusher, he’d be blushing right now. So Daisy remembers his story. How much else does she remember? Because he remembers. He remembers her weak breaths, her chest barely moving as they tossed her like trash onto the ground. Feeling her pulse, caressing her hair, trying to prove to her that touch doesn’t have to hurt, that she doesn’t have to be in pain. He promised to get her home, back to her team and family…</p><p class="has-line-data">They stare at each other for a moment.</p><p class="has-line-data">“You’re right,” Daisy says finally. “I am scared. We kissed. In the time loop.”</p><p class="has-line-data">Brought back to the present, he pales. “Oh, Daisy, I’m so sorry. That’s--”</p><p class="has-line-data">“No, no. I kissed you.” His breath hitches. He steps forward again. “You kissed me back.” Could that be a smile? At the memory of their kiss? He allows a little hope to blossom before returning his attention to the conversation. And that’s as it should be: her choice.</p><p class="has-line-data">“You know,” Daisy starts, hesitates. She places her hands on the table and pushes herself out of the booth. “I thought this conversation was going to go in a different direction. I spent most of this night convincing myself how wrong it was to drag you into this.” She looks amused, as if she’s finally decided something.</p><p class="has-line-data">She stands next to him. He tries to keep his breath steady. She reaches--<em>is she? will she?</em>--but almost at the last minute, her hand changes course and she does… whatever it is she does… at the coffee pot.</p><p class="has-line-data">“Wh--”</p><p class="has-line-data">“The water was taking too long,” she says, explaining nothing. She tilts her head. “Do you know about atoms and heat transfer? It’s a neat trick that Lincoln…” She pauses. Shakes her head. “An old teammate, taught me.”</p><p class="has-line-data">She’s too close to him for him to really register what she said. She brushes him aside so she can get closer to the counter. His arm tingles from where she’s touched him. In fact, his whole body tingles from the contact, as if she had quaked him too--quaked his heart--stunning him. She rummages through the tea bag selection, chooses one before ripping it open and pouring her tea. She pours water into his mug too.</p><p class="has-line-data"><em>It needs to be her choice,</em> he chants to himself.</p><p class="has-line-data">But he can’t help himself. He steps closer to her as she sets the pot down, gently lays his hand on top of hers, the one that lays delicately on the counter. She turns her head to look up at him. And finally, finally…</p><p class="has-line-data">He leans down, presses a tentative kiss on her cheek. Her eyes close for a moment, then opens as she turns her whole body towards him. Her soft hand leaves his before she reaches up to grab his shirt at his chest, pulling him. His hands find her hips, then the bare skin of her lower back, then her shoulders, and presses her even closer as their lips melt into each other.</p><p class="has-line-data">“I know I’m impressive,” she says, pulling away. <em>Yes, yes you are,</em> he thinks. Though he’s not sure if he’s ever had any other thoughts in his head. “But it’s just some tea.”</p><p class="has-line-data">He gazes into her eyes, her face, her smile. Her hand still on his chest, the other reaching up to caress his cheek. “That was nice,” she whispers.</p><p class="has-line-data">He smiles. “Yes, yes it was.”</p><p class="has-line-data">She pulls back. “But now you should get back to your watch shift.” She nods curtly. She steps away and grabs her tea. “I think I can finally sleep now.”</p><p class="has-line-data">Dazed, his gaze follows her out the kitchen. He shakes himself out of it, still smiling, and grabs his tablet and tea. He too leaves the kitchen, back to his circuit around the ship, hope growing even more in his heart.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>